


cracks in the windowpane

by orphan_account



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dark Monkey D. Luffy, Gen, POV Outsider, Psychological Horror, Sadism, haha get noobed arlong, may have dark themes, mild angst?, of sorts, the story itself actually isn't that dark, weird tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Away from his crew's cherished gaze, Luffy can't afford any mercy for those who hurt his precious friends.well frikc another one i'm too embarrassed aboutedgy cringe





	1. sharkteeth

"There's a bloodstain on this pen," the boy mumbles.

Arlong watches him with contempt, his sword already brushing against the edge of the brat's neck. A trickle of crimson runs slowly down rubber skin, and Arlong almost laughs out loud.  
Because once again- this is his victory. A human can never be a match for a fish-man.

A child, moreover, can't even make a stand against him.

Lithe fingers twist the pen, and Arlong watches disinterestedly as dried blood flakes off the pen and onto the ground. The weakling's death can be delayed all he wants, because Arlong's own triumph is already inevitable. There's no chance of victory for an inferior race.

That last, drawn-out, moment of wretched despair will only make everything all the sweeter.

.

"Why's there blood on this pen?" the brat asks, peering up at him through dark lashes. He's sitting cross-legged on the ground with a blade still poised against his neck, the red of his blood mixing with his own red vest.  
He has no sense of danger, Arlong thinks, because he's already dancing between the lines of the dead and living.

In mere moments, he'll be on the side of the dead, his fresh corpse wrenching wails of despair from the puny humans outside.

"That's Nami's," Arlong says with his sickest and cruelest smile, "-that's Nami's blood, Nami's work-this entire room is the fruit of her efforts, as my navigator. With her maps, the world will become my empire, and no one will stand between me and my dream." Not even you, he adds silently, although he's certain the brat already knows.

He edges his sword a little further to the left, watching greedily as more rivulets of dark blood stream down paling skin. The stark contrast excites him- this is the blood that keeps the frail little thing alive, and he's slowly ruining that, bit by bit.

He'll slowly ruin this child.

He'll make a mess out of him.

A display of superiority over the humans.

Arlong shivers at the thought, and in his glee, his blade cuts even farther into the boy's flesh. Kiribachi craves blood, just like him. Crimson drips steadily onto dull grey tiles.

"No one can use Nami as well as I can." Arlong gloats, seeing the child's eyes lock onto the maps nearby. "Someone like you will just let her talents to to waste." Someone as lowly as a human is nothing *but* a waste.

There's silence for a few tense moments, and Arlong worries that he's broken the boy before he even had a chance to begin his fun. But then a low, "...use?" makes it's way to Arlong's ears, and he feels a wide grin fighting its way onto his face. The boy is unnerved.

"Did that get to you?" he snarks with a wicked lilt to his voice, "-did you not like hearing that?"

The boy looks down at the now-cleaner pen in his hands, his gaze blank, and sets it down almost ceremoniously next to him. He handles it as though it's something both precious and terrible at the same time, and the pure _care_ he provides the little utensil almost makes Arlong puke.  
The humans are all emotional little shitstains.__

_ _

_ _And then suddenly, still high off his triumph, Arlong comes to a strange realization. Why can't he move his sword anymore?_ _

_ _..._ _

_ _He can't move his sword._ _

__ _....._  
....  
...  
..  
.  
.  
.  
Kiribachi shatters in the hands of a child, and with it's shattering- comes the premonition of something terrible.  
It's a heavy feeling, pressing at Arlong's lungs, but he fights it off nevertheless with a snarl; ignoring the strange shivers that tingle down his back. 

_ _"What," the boy utters lowly, now looking directly at him, "..do you think Nami is?"  
The air gets colder._ _

_ _Shaking off his wariness, Arlong cracks a devilish smile and taunts the boy without a single worry.  
He doesn't need to be cautious._ _

_ _This is a human._ _

_ _A child._ _

_ _A rat._ _

_ _Something proven to be lower than fish-men._ _

_ _There's no need to be worried._ _

_ _._ _

_ _A table flies over his head, barely nicking the tip of his fin. It's the table Nami uses to write her maps, with scratch marks and ink-stains and worn wood. It flies out the broken window, flinging glass shards in every direction, and Arlong hears the dull thud of impact; the loud crack of the table snapping in half outside._ _

_ _There's no need to be worried._ _

_ _A shelf topples, the countless collections of books and information ripped to shreds. They're a part of his dream, the things he had spent years collecting._ _

_ _There's no need to be worried._ _

_ _Ink splashes everywhere, brushes and pens and paper soar through the air, breaking and snapping and crumbling- they all go out the window, crushed remnants scattering into the wind._ _

__There's no need to be worried.  
But the boy just won't _stop._

Arlong shrieks in rage, lunging for the boy, barely missing his neck.  
His maps.  
His maps are torn and ruined, tossed out the window like used trash.  
They _are_ trash, now, the keys to his glorious future as the ruler of the sea.__

_ _Arlong watches his dreams go up in flames as the child wreaks havoc, his future empire vanishing before his eyes. The goal he had had in mind, so close to him; it had been at the tips of his fingertips-_ _

_ _gone.  
It's gone._ _

_ _

_ _The room is wrecked, ruined, and all that's left is the boy and Arlong himself._ _

_ _..._ _

_ _

_ _Arlong's rage makes him lose all his senses. Teeth sink into soft rubber flesh, and blood splurts out of a fresh wound. A cry of pain from the child makes Arlong's mouth curl into a vindictive glower-_ _

_ _-but it's not enough.  
He needs to suffer even more for what he's done._ _

__Through Arlong's haze of fury, he can't quite make out what the boy is saying. But he feels the bright burst of pain when his nose, (symbol of pride as a fish-man) is _twisted_ brutally, bent by the scrawny child's small hand.

His vehement roar is drowned out by the thundering pounding in his own head, and Arlong tumbles around, disorientated, ready for one last attack. The rush in his ears sends him spiraling about, and a leg stretched up high into the air fills his vision.

and then suddenly, he's no longer there

the roof is so high up-it's too far away

just like his dream

...

And like that, it's all over.

Rubble collapses around him, large chunks of concrete crumble as they collide with the hard ground. Dust and debris settle on his face, and he just barely retains his consciousness.

This is his defeat. Somehow. Arlong will acknowledge it this time, but it's okay, he reassures himself. Because after this, he'll gather up his resources once more, and destroy the boy. He's lost the battle, but he'll eventually win the war.  
He'll get his revenge on both the child and Nami.  
(on the humans)

Only then does Arlong barely register a loud crash next to him, and he manages to weakly turn his head to face the source of the noise.

It's the brat.

He's covered in blood, some of it dried, the rest still trickling down his arms. Crimson drips steadily onto pale grey tiles. Except it's not limited to only the child's blood, this time.

The brat towers over Arlong's prone body, his face blank, matted with dirt and blood and dust. He peers down at Arlong impassively, and Arlong feels so much _shame,_ being looked down on by a worthless human.__

_ _

_ _"Come here to gloat?," he spits out, glaring at the brat as hard as he can. He wishes his eyes could burn holes through the human's skull._ _

_ _"...no." the boy says slowly, as though tasting the words, "I'm not here to talk to you."_ _

_ _Arlong sees a small movement out of the corner of his eyes, and notices the boy's fist tightly clenching the pen from before. His knuckles are white with strain._ _

_ _The child shuffles closer, and Arlong can feel the tips of his sandals touching his midriff. "-stay away," he snarls, sharp teeth stained with coppery blood. But the brat just shakes his head, fingernails chipping away at the remaining bloodstains on the pen. Flakes of dried blood scatter._ _

_ _"Nami cried, y'know." He says the words simply; as though he already knows that Arlong won't care. Arlong doesn't._ _

_ _"I thought you said you weren't talking to me."_ _

_ _"I won't."_ _

_ _

_ _The brat suddenly drops to his knees, kneeling directly next to Arlong's chest._ _

_ _"What're you doing? Stay away!" A tinge of panic makes its way into his voice, and Arlong's breath stutters against his lungs. There's something wrong with the boy. It's a gut feeling, and Arlong's instincts scream at him to just get away, get away._ _

_ _"No. I bet Nami said that to you before. I told you, she cried."_ _

_ _The boy glides the pen along Arlong's chest, twirling the pen over where Arlong knows his heart is. "What are you doing," Arlong asks, brain thrumming from both pain and racing fear._ _

_ _"Nami's blood." The child whispers. The whisper sounds like a death sentence. "You said that this is Nami's blood. On this pen."_ _

_ _"I...should replace it." The pen stills, hovering over Arlong's collarbone._ _

_ _Arlong's nerves are tingling, this is wrong, there's something wrong,_ _

_ _"I should replace it with your blood."_ _

_ _The tip of the pen digs into Arlong's skin, making a small dent, before snapping in half. The dent rises back up in less than a second, and the pen crumples as the boy drops it onto the ground._ _

__ _Arlong doesn't heave a sigh of relief, because he had already known that the pen would be no match for his thick, scaly, exterior. It wasn't the action that had scared him, but the fucking child himself.  
Because when he manages to meet the boy's eyes, there's something dark present there, something that hadn't been there before.  
(or maybe it had always been there)_

_ _"The pen broke." the boy mumbles. He looks somewhat dejected, as though he hadn't just been about to try and stab Arlong with a pen. He had, though._ _

_ _Arlong sneers at him in response, proud to the end, even as he's lying on the ground dying. "Pathetic," he glowers, to make it seem like he has the upper hand._ _

_ _He doesn't._ _

_ _Not here._ _

_ _.  
And then the boy's head snaps back up to him, the gleam in his eyes making Arlong's skin crawl. "You're right.." the boy says, fingers twitching, "-the pen's too weak, after all.."_ _

_ _A hand reaches into Arlong's mouth and pulls.  
The child wrenches off one of Arlong's teeth._ _

_ _Arlong probably screams. He can't hear all that well anymore, so he doesn't really know._ _

_ _

_ _"You said that your teeth are the strongest, right?" A sharp pressure gradually digs into Arlong's chest._ _

_ _The tooth punctures._ _

_ _......_ _

_ _

_ _It feels like it goes on for hours, but there's no sense of time in the pain-filled daze Arlong's in._ _

_ _"You're not right in the head," he hears himself rasp to the boy, but the boy just keeps looking at him with a blank stare. No visible reaction; nothing but a hollow gaze._ _

_ _

_ _"So what." the child says, no hint of mirth in his eyes._ _

_ _It's unsettling in the worst way. There's no trace of the loud, rambunctious, and bullheaded kid he had fought outside. There's something else left in its place, something cruel, something cold._ _

_ _"Are you," Arlong coughs, the sound wretched and ugly, "-are you hiding from those other humans, or do they already know you're like this? Does Nami know?" The slightest flinch from the boy piques his interest, and Arlong finds the small spark of hope he had been looking for._ _

_ _"Haa-a," he wheezes, "Do they all know how disgusting you are, and what you're doing to me?" The child covers his face with his bloodstained hands, and Arlong watches his shoulders begin to shake with a burst of exhilaration. The boy's crying?_ _

_ _"I'll tell them, I'll tell them!"_ _

_ _

_ _And then the hands lower, and Arlong's stomach drops. The boy hadn't been crying after all. His face is dry.  
He had been laughing- but there had been no trace of humor in his voice._ _

_ _"I don't know what you're thinking, but you sure are stupid." The boy jabs a finger at him, and Arlong blinks blearily._ _

_ _

_ _"You. made. Nami. cry." Each word enunciated with a sharp poke to Arlong's bleeding chest, the boy leans in even farther than he had before. Arlong narrows his eyes to meet the suddenly ferocious glare._ _

_ _"Everything," the boy says, "-everything I have done here- is for Nami. It was all for Nami. So go ahead, go tell them all about it."_ _

_ _Arlong can only direct his most hatred-filled snarl at him, teeth bared in a bloody grimace, and the boy backs down, seemingly satisfied._ _

_ _"You're right, though," the boy mutters, eyes lighting up in some sort of cognizance, "I'm gonna need to shut you up." Something sharp caresses his neck, and Arlong realizes with dawning terror that it's his own tooth. Stop, he almost says, stay away. But he doesn't say it out loud._ _

_ _The boy probably already sees it in the way his eyes widen._ _

_ _

_ _..._ _

_ _

_ _The child stands up with one last blank glare, feet shuffling over the crumbling rubble. A sandal brushes by Arlong's face._ _

_ _Watching him leave with unfocused eyes, Arlong pulls all his effort into staying conscious. His throat burns with pain, and the rest of his body shrieks with agony._ _

_ _

_ _"Why," he finally croaks out, as the child reaches the edges of the ruins.  
There's no response, for a while, until the human stills; one hand still poised to hoist him up onto the broken pillars. He seems to hesitate to speak, but begins to talk without bothering to turn around._ _

_ _"I didn't wanna hear the story, y'know, but the kind of crying Nami did? She was hurt, and that wasn't the small kind of pain." Spots grow in Arlong's vision._ _

_ _"-yo...u did this to me becau..se she cr...ied?" he manages to get the words out before his throat begins to close up. It's shameful how far he's fallen, lying on the ground and struggling to speak. His mouth goes slack, and crimson drips onto dull grey tiles. None of it is the human's blood._ _

_ _

_ _Suddenly, the boy is standing over him once more, dark eyes staring into his own, and there's something different in the way he looks at him now._ _

_ _"No," he says, the words slurring in Arlong's ears, "-it's not just because she cried."_ _

_ _He says something else, probably, because his mouth moves, but Arlong doesn't quite catch it. It seems like a warning, but Arlong doesn't know. He doesn't really care anymore._ _

_ _

_ _A loud crashing noise; and then some cheering._ _

_ _

_ _Then as his world begins to fade into nothing, and his arms go numb, he hears an ear-shattering: "NAMI- I'M YOUR FRIEND!"_ _

__The voice is so loud, so happy, so _pure-_  
.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

...what a monster.

_____________________________________________________________________  
\- ------------------------ -------------------------- -------

Genzo eyes Arlong's unconscious form with mild horror.

His wounds aren't quite fatal, not for a fish-man, but they're terrifyingly severe. His teeth seem to be ripped out, there's blood everywhere, and ugh- are those shark teeth in his chest?  
Gen sees his own disgust reflected in the faces of the villagers around him, some parents shielding their children's eyes. The sight's a bit too bloody.

An elderly man winces when he looks at Arlong, seemingly nauseated and somewhat nervous, but there's a vindictive look in his eyes when he turns back around to face Gen. He nods at the body.

'He deserved this,' is what they seem to communicate to each other, and Gen...couldn't agree more.

It's just...

He hates the sick bastard, of course, and would definitely wish death on him if he could, but...  
..there's something very wrong.

These wounds couldn't have been inflicted from a mere fight, nor could they have come from a plummet from a high distance.  
The punctures and jagged marks could only have been created slowly and deliberately, in a painstakingly careful manner. As though they were done as torture.

And there's only one person who could have done it.  
.

Genzo hears distant chattering, lively and cheerful. It's a welcome change from the gloom and the tip-toeing around during Arlong's dictatorship, and he feels his heart lift a little bit. The village is free now- it still barely registers in his mind, especially with how giddy he feels.

He shouldn't worry about Arlong.

He shouldn't have to.

"Namiiiiiiiiii," he hears, and Gen turns around to see the blonde man wriggling around in some sort of ritualistic dance. He looks like a noodle. Genzo blinks in slight confusion.

Nami doesn't even bat an eye, brushing the man off with a smile in favor of talking to the boy with the strawhat, who's all grins and cheer. They're nattering animatedly, and it's honestly a welcome sight.  
It's so reassuring, now, to see her so happy.

The little girl who suffered for ten years has finally been freed from her plight, and Genzo couldn't be more grateful to the person who stopped the cause of her tears.  
(But Arlong's injuries....)

Arlong doesn't matter anymore.  
Bell-mère has been avenged, and the village is free.

(he tells himself that to avoid the uneasy feeling creeping up his gut)

He darts another glance at Arlong's body, and there's nary a movement at first. He's like a stiff corpse lying still against the ruins of Arlong Park.

It's only then that he realizes Arlong is still semi-conscious.

Arlong's mouth moves in a cross between silent words and an open-mouthed scream, and Genzo pauses in his attempt to beat the bastard to death. He lowers his fists reluctantly, and sees many others do the same out of the corner of his eye. 

_monster,_ Arlong seems to struggle to say, and Gen is inclined to agree wholeheartedly. He is a monster. A cruel and wretched one, who ruined a village for nothing but selfish cupidity. He kicks Arlong's foot unprovoked, and feels no guilt. Arlong deserved everything he got and more.__

_ _

_ _But then the fish-man, eyes still half-lidded, points shakily at the straw-hatted boy. His fingers are drenched in blood, and they tremble in the cold air. _ _

_ _Face slack, matted with red and dust and dirt, eyes almost unseeing; Arlong shivers and coughs. Arlong- the invincible fish-man, the tyrant who had ruled over the village for a decade, wrecking the lives of so many people- reduced to this. It's almost laughable...except it isn't. Because Genzo understands now._ _

___monster,_ the bastard mouths again, his gesturing steadily growing more frantic. And then he faints once more, hand collapsing atop the crumbling rubble. A pebble tumbles down and clacks against the hard ground.

...

Genzo understands now, and really wishes he didn't.

\-------------------------------------------------------  
\-------------------------------------------------------

Bell-mère's grave is drenched in sake. 

"Arlong's gone," he whispers to the dull stone, a chilly breeze tickling his hair, "-he's gone, and our village is free." There's no response, but he never would've expected one anyways.  
The liquid pools at the base of the grave, and slowly seeps into the cold dirt. Genzo watches it vanish with sad eyes.

"-I offer my respect," a voice says in the background.

It's the straw-hatted boy, and his name is Luffy, Gen recalls. He's standing there with hands full of meat, and Gen stifles a small snort. His filled cheeks make him look like a chipmunk.

"It's regrets," he corrects gently, and the boy nods solemnly. As solemnly as he can with a face full of food, at least.

"I offer my regrets," Luffy tries again, and is rewarded by a quiet huff of laughter. 

The weather is rather cold, even if Genzo feels warm inside. The village's festivities are still going on, bright and cheerful and loud. He can hear people singing from the ledge of the cliff where he stands. It feels fantastic to know how happy everybody is now, with a dictator gone and long-awaited revenge finally fulfilled.  
Even if Bell-mère is gone, her daughters are still-

-wait.

Genzo pivots on his heel, a small almost-scowl fresh on his face.

Nami's going to go with the pirates. He already knows it. He could see it in the way she looked at them, fondness and happiness all rolled into one, admiration and joy in her voice- the happiest he's seen her since Arlong took over. 

"Nami," he begins to say, finger poised to shake threateningly at Luffy, "is going to..." Gen trails off, feeling his face twist into something harsh. 

"If you _ever_ hurt her, I'll kill you." He says simply. __

_ _He braces himself for a violent response from the boy, feet shifting in the dirt, because regardless of whether he's a good pirate or not, people rarely respond to a death threat kindly. He'll probably get beat up a bit, but he'll put up a fight regardless. Nami's safety is his priority.  
And if he has to, he'll act on his threat. _ _

_ _Instead, he gets an instant response. _ _

_ _

_ _"Nami's my friend," the boy says without any hesitation. His words speak volumes, and they say much, much, more than they seem to. The 'I would never," goes unsaid, but Gen already knows how far this boy would go for his friends._ _

_ _(Arlong)_ _

_ _His eyes are wide with some sort of innocence Genzo can't quite comprehend, untainted honesty seeping through his voice. A great big smile had spread across his face the moment Gen had mentioned Nami, and the sheer brightness blinds him just a little._ _

_ _

_ _"..Ok, " Genzo smiles, turning back around to look at Bell-mère's grave._ _

_ _

_ _ "-ok."_ _


	2. alabaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aha got this done in 10 minutes
> 
> for no reason actually there was no reason for that

"You're rather pathetic," Crocodile notes.

The wind howls.

"D..on't yo..u dare do ...it." The boy coughs weakly, head lolling to the side.

His blood is everywhere, dripping down Crocodile's arms and seeping into his sleeves.  
A faint coppery tang drifts through the air, and it claws at Crocodile's lungs. (it's nothing he isn't used to, however)

"I don't know what you could do to stop me." Crocodile frowns coldly. "And you certainly won't be able to do anything once you're dead."

"..I won'..t die."  
His eyes glimmer in that moment, a foolish sort of conviction rising to his dark irises. It really is pathetic.

Crocodile tosses him into the sand with a flick of his wrist.

"We'll see about that."

* * *

  
"You're still alive."

"I am."

The boy- Strawhat, Crocodile remembers, stands across from him with a bloody chest and bruised fists.

"You won't be, soon." Crocodile tells him grimly.

"I'll survive." the boy laughs, downing gallons of water. "I'll beat you, survive, and help Vivi."

"You want to help her?"

"Yeah."

Crocodile hums, wind whistling through his hair.  
"You'll fail. Because you're weak."

Strawhat looks him in the eye, sweat-soaked and alive and terribly pathetic. 

"I won't fail."  


* * *

  
The boy says it again, moments from death. 

Crocodile clutches his throat in a tight grip, wrenching all the life out of him with a cold gaze.

"You'll fail." he tells him.

"I won't. And I'll kill you." the boy says back. 

It isn't a threat.

But it isn't a promise, either. 

Looking at the boy's blank eyes, the barest bit of life still sparking in his desperate attempts to get loose, Crocodile can't help but think that they're all just empty words.

Empty words, empty threats, empty promises.  


* * *

  
"You're alive," Crocodile repeats. 

"I am." the boy says back, but it's different this time.  
Soaked in blood, crimson rivulets running down everywhere, blending with the red of his vest, he looks half an inch from death.

Again.

"I think you should just go die," Crocodile advises. 

"You first." the boy replies, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

But his steps are only lively on the surface, tension coiled beneath his curled toes, and his smile is all teeth, no humor. 

"No thank you." Crocodile says with barely concealed rage. 

The boy is still alive.

"Tell me," Crocodile whispers smoothly, "Why do you keep fighting?"

(why are you still alive?)

The boy tilts his head to the side, just a little bit, and rocks back on his heels. He lunges barely a second after.

Crocodile parries and dodges and blocks, but he still gets hit and hit and hit.

"I'm fighting to take it back." the boy says.

"Take what back? The country? What does this country have to do with you?"

"Yeah, the country." the boy says, sending a right-hook into Crocodile's face. "But only because it's Vivi's."

"For Vivi?"

"And the old man," the boy confides to him quietly, like it's a secret. Maybe it is. 

Crocodile feels concrete crumble around him, and suddenly he's in the air, wind screaming in his face.  
It's all he knows until he blacks out.  


* * *

  
"You're different from earlier." Robin says with a faint lilt to her words.

Luffy stays collapsed on the floor, hands flopped weakly to his side and breaths ragged.

"That's because no one I care about is here." he says without any shame, looking up at the crumbling ceiling with a blank smile. 

"No one you care about?" Robin asks. 

Luffy doesn't respond.  


* * *

  
"TELL ME YOU WANT TO LIVE." Luffy shouts. 

And she does. 

So she does. 

And before long, completely and wholly a part of Luffy's crew now, willing to give anything for them and receive in return, she realizes something rather daunting.

She never does see that Luffy again, the one with the blank smile and cruel edge to his grin, eyes always sharper and darker than they ever should be.

It warms her heart.


End file.
